Chapter Text
Waffles were something of a staple in Kanan's crew. This was mostly his fault— they were one of his favorite things to make. Over the years, he'd fallen into the habit of making them before big missions, ones that were important or dangerous.
This one was definitely that, Kanan mused as he poured batter into the waffle iron and closed it up. It was their first mission working with the Ghost crew.
He wasn't nervous, of course. He'd worked with Hera enough times to know they made a really good team. And sure, it was the first time his crew and hers would be working together, and sure, there was tension on both sides. Neither of them had the most trusting of crew members— with the exception of Ezra— which could make things hard.
Plus, last time he'd talked to her, Fulcrum had referred to this mission as a “trial run”. When Kanan had asked what she meant, Fulcrum had simply said, “Nothing's fixed, Maurice. One step at a time.”
Which is just so comforting, Kanan thought, trying and failing to quell the twinge of anxiety in his stomach at the memory.
Alright. Maybe he was a little nervous. But he really, really wanted this to work out. He'd never admit this in front of the others— especially Kasmir— but the idea of working with Hera on a regular basis was incredible. Having a team member that caught onto his own plans so quickly, who was so good in a crisis? It was a dream come true.
Right, and it has nothing to do with your feelings for her , a sarcastic voice that sounded a little too much like Kasmir snarked in his head.
Kanan shook his head as if to send the thoughts flying. Don't be stupid. Hera sees you as a friend, and now a co worker. That's all.
Despite his forceful thoughts, he couldn’t help but think about some of their past missions together, remembering how much he liked fighting by her side. Remembering her quick wits and sharp reflexes, her incredible skills as a pilot and the way her eyes sparkled when they’d completed something incredibly dangerous and difficult. It was captivating.
And definitely not what he should be concentrating on during breakfast, let alone before a new mission. Kanan switched his attention back to the waffle maker in front of him, opening it to remove the freshly cooked waffle. Setting it on a plate, he turned towards the table behind him, where Jyn and Kasmir were sitting.
Sliding Jyn the plate, he said, “Get it well it’s hot.”
She nodded her thanks, but didn’t start eating right away. Kanan eyed her as he moved back to the waffle maker. “Something on your mind?” he asked.
Next to her, Kasmir let out a snort as he sipped his caf. “Probably the same thing that’s on my mind,” he said, and Kanan held back a sigh. Whenever Kasmir decided he needed to make his opinion known, it was never fun.
He finished pouring batter into the waffle maker, closed it, then turned back to them. “Whatever you have to say, say it,” he said calmly.
Folding his arms, Kasmir said, “I’m just not sure this is the best idea. We almost never work with other crews, and when we do, it sucks.”
“It doesn’t suck,” Kanan said. “You just refuse to cooperate because you’re… you, and then I have to leave you back on the ship. So try not to do that this time.”
“And then there’s the matter of your whole thing with Captain Syndulla,” Kasmir continued, ignoring Kanan’s words.
Narrowing his eyes at the Kalleran, Kanan said, “There’s no “thing”. Even if there were, it would be none of your business.”
“I’m just saying,” Kasmir said, slurping from his caf mug. “You don’t want your feelings to get in the way of the mission.”
Kanan almost laughed at the irony of those words coming from Kasmir, of all people. “You almost sound like a Jedi,” he told him, and the Kalleran made a rude noise. “Anyway, that won’t be a problem. I have this under control.”
“I find that very hard to believe,” Kasmir muttered, and Kanan ignored him.
Turning to Jyn, he said, “What’s bothering you? Same thing, or something else?”
He saw her shoulder hunch slightly as she went into defense mode, the way she always did when they had conversations about something hard. “I just don’t like the idea of working with someone we don’t know well— or trust. I never planned on working with the larger Rebellion. We’ve already talked about that.”
“We have,” Kanan agreed, keeping his voice gentle. “But this isn’t us joining up with the larger Rebellion. This is just us working with another crew. And I trust Hera.”
“Well, I don’t,” Jyn said bluntly. “What if she finds out who I am? We don’t know what she’ll do.”
Kanan exchanged a quick glance with Kasmir. He and Jyn had agreed a while ago to tell the rest of the crew about her true parentage, specifically the fact that her father worked for the Empire. Therefore, everyone knew that she didn’t want anyone to know, and Kanan couldn’t blame her. “I trust her,” he repeated calmly. “She wouldn’t do anything drastic. Trust me on this one, okay?”
Jyn’s expression wavered. Then she sighed. “Fine. But I still don’t like this.”
“You don’t have to. All you have to do is work with them,” Kanan said as the door to the kitchen hissed open and Ezra darted in, looking unreasonably excited. Okadiah followed him at a more reasonable pace, and made his way over to the caf maker to pour himself a cup.
“Good morning,” Ezra said cheerfully, dropping down next to Kasmir, who gave him a deep frown.
“Since when? What’s got you in such a good mood?”
Ezra shrugged. “I’m looking forward to working with Hera’s crew. It’s gonna be fun!”
Shaking his head, Kasmir muttered, “As usual, the kid remains the weirdest member of the crew.”
“Why thank you,” Ezra said breezily. “Can I have a waffle, and when do we meet Hera and the others?”
“We’re on the way right now,” Kanan told him. “We’re meeting above Lothal.”
“Sweet, I can visit Chenni,” Ezra said with a grin. “And Okadiah can flirt with her some more.”
Making an offended noise, Okadiah said, “I resent that accusation. Besides, is it really flirting if I’m merely complimenting a lovely lady on her wares and also how she looks today?”
“Yes,” Jyn, Kasmir and Ezra said at once.
Snorting, Kanan said, “Looks like it’s unanimous.”
“I shall rise above your insults,” Okadiah said in an overly-dignified manner as he picked up his cup of caf. “And also go check your messages to make sure more of our agents haven’t gotten themselves locked in closets.”
“Good plan,” Kanan agreed as he handed Ezra a waffle.
As the boy poured syrup over his breakfast, he observed, “I’ve got a really good feeling about this mission.”
I’m glad someone does, Kanan thought as he turned back to his work.
~ ~ ~
Hera always knew she was at her best when she was flying. No matter where she was, or what was going on, when she was in the pilot’s chair, nothing else mattered, not really. She could cope with anything.
At the moment, however, the thing she was coping with was three somewhat surly crew members.
“Are you sure we can trust this guy?” Zeb demanded, his voice skeptical.
Holding back a sigh, Hera said, “Yes, Zeb, I’ve told you. I trust him, and so does Fulcrum. Things aren’t going to be that different— we’re still doing things to fight back against the Empire. It’s just going to be with a new crew now. Which means more man power, which is a good thing.”
“Is it?” Sabine said, folding her arms. “Because you might trust Kanan, but we don’t know anything about his crew.”
“We’ve actually met them before, on multiple occasions,” Hera pointed out.
“Still, we don’t know what they could be hiding,” Sabine argued.
“And even if we weren’t considering that, I don’t really like the idea of this Maurice guy bossing us around,” Zeb growled. “I don’t take orders from the likes of him. You’re the one I signed up to work with.”
Hera finally couldn’t help it and let out the sigh she’d been repressing. “We’re going to work together, Zeb. It won’t be just him giving the orders. But when he does, you’re going to have to get over the fact that you don’t like him, for whatever reason that is.”
“Oh, what could it be?” Zeb grumbled, folding his arms. “Definitely isn’t obvious in the way he looks at you.”
“Wha— Zeb!” Hera felt herself flush slightly, which wasn’t something she often did. Except where Kanan was involved, it would seem. “Kanan is a friend, and a co-worker. That’s all.”
“Is that what he thinks?” Zeb asked, lifting one brow. “Cause I think he might not mind getting awfully friendly with you, if you get my drift.”
“That’s not going to be a problem,” Hera said firmly. So firmly she almost convinced herself.
The truth was, she had no idea if Kanan would want to grow closer to her, especially in the romantic sense. She knew what her response would be if he asked– in fact, she’d probably bring it up first, to preempt him.
But over the years, she’d seen more than one side of Kanan– the flirtatious, charming, if occasionally annoying, gunslinger; and then the serious, dedicated Jedi, who would still crack a smile every now and then. And then there’d been the Kanan she encountered on Rion, who was someone else entirely. But just which one, Hera wondered, was the real Kanan?
For now, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she could convince her crew to work well with Kanan’s, and they got the mission done.
At the moment, if that happened, it would be a miracle.
“Let me worry about Kanan,” she told Zeb. “You concentrate on actually working with his crew. Understood?”
Zeb nodded reluctantly as the console beeped. “We've got a ship coming out of hyperspace,” Chopper reported. “It's hideous and yellow. Isn't that your scruffy guy?”
“That's Kanan,” Hera confirmed. “Oh, and you're going to act civilly, too, got it? These people are here to help us.”
“Can’t be any worse than the purple people eater here,” Chopper buzzed derisively, and Zeb squinted at him.
“He’s saying something about me, isn’t he? I can tell.”
“You don’t want to know,” Sabine told him. “Should I hail our… new friends?”
Hera ignored the sarcastic connotation of the Mandalorian’s words and nodded. “Please do.”
Sabine keyed a button. “ Yellow Submarine, this is the Ghost. Please respond.”
A few minutes later, a crackly, familiar voice came from the speakers. “Greetings, Ghost ! We're glad to see you could make it. Feel free to dock, and we'll see you in a moment.”
Hera smiled at the sound of Okadiah's voice. It had been nice, finding out that he'd stuck with Kanan over all these years. He was also one of the only crew members she was absolutely certain would actually be helpful. We'll be there momentarily, she told them, and switched off the com.
The flight to the airlock took a matter of seconds, and it wasn’t long before Hera and her crew were heading into the ship.
A familiar figure met them at the entrance. Ezra was bouncing on his heels, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. “Hi,” he said, shooting them a grin. “Kanan’s in the kitchen– he told me to bring you to the planning room, he’ll meet you there.”
“And what’s the illustrious Maurice up to right now?” Sabine asked, her tone dry. Hera shot her a warning look, but Ezra didn’t look bothered.
“He and Kasmir are talking,” he told them, leading them to a ladder down into another level of the ship.
“Talking or arguing?” Sabine asked, and Hera let out a short sigh.
“Sabine. We’ve talked about this,” she reminded her.
“What, now I’m not allowed to ask questions?” The Mandalorian girl let out a huff, sweeping her orange bangs out of her eyes. “I’m just saying, I want to know if we’re heading into some kind of mutiny.”
“Wha— Kasmir’s not gonna mutiny,” Ezra protested as they headed down the ladder. “Who would make him waffles? Look, they’re just talking.”
“Oh, yeah? About what?” Sabine challenged as they arrived in a hallway below, doors flanking them on either side and straight ahead of them.
Hera saw Ezra bite his lip. “Uh— well, um—”
Ahead of them, the door hissed open, and Kanan stepped out. His gaze landed on Hera, Zeb, Sabine and Ezra, and a slight smile moved across his lips. “Good to see you made it,” he said calmly, his deep voice cutting over Ezra’s stuttering. Hera saw relief flash across the boy’s face as he spun around to face Kanan.
Before he could speak, Kanan said, “If you’ll all come with me, I thought we’d talk about the mission here.”
“Good idea,” Hera said briskly, moving forward. She heard Sabine and Zeb following her as Kanan led the way into a large room. There were a few chairs scattered here and there, a holo console in one corner, and a large whiteboard hung on the wall. Messy writing covered it in patches— Hera spotted what looked like a to-do list, some kind of instructional notes on what looked to be weapons training, and an unflattering doodle that she was pretty sure was supposed to be Governor Tarkin.
Kasmir was lounging in a chair nearby, and he flicked them an unimpressed look as they came in. Jyn stood next to him, her expression wary and her arms crossed. It looks like winning Kanan’s crew over might be harder than I thought, Hera mused with an internal sigh.
Even as she thought the words, the door on the other end of the room hissed open, and Okadiah stepped through, carrying a tray with a large pot and a handful of mugs on it. Shooting Hera a warm smile as he set the tray on a table set up in the back of the room, he said, “So lovely to see you again, Captain. We’re glad to have you here.”
On the other hand, it might not be too hard. Returning the smile, Hera said, “Glad to see you, too, Okadiah. It’s been too long.”
“Indeed,” Okadiah agreed, pouring a stream of caf into a mug and handing it to her. “It will be enjoyable to work together, though. Don’t you agree, Kanan?”
“Definitely,” Kanan said from behind Hera, and she nearly jumped. She flicked a glance at him as he moved up next to her, his arm brushing against hers as he accepted a mug of caf from Okadiah. Giving her a crooked grin, he said, “Could even be fun.”
To her own annoyance, Hera felt her heart flutter slightly at his smile. Enough, Hera. You know better than that. She took a quick sip of her caf to hide her reaction, and her eyes narrowed at the familiar, almost chocolatey taste. “Is this Spiran caf?”
Kanan frowned, lifting the cup and sipping from it. “Huh. Yeah, it is. Okadiah, I told you to save this for special occasions.”
“And this isn’t a special occasion?” Okadiah said innocently.
“Point taken,” Kanan acknowledged, his gaze flicking towards Hera slyly.
Yeah, this is gonna be a problem. “I assume we should get on with the briefing?” Hera pointed out calmly.
“Good plan,” Kanan agreed, his tone becoming as business-like as hers. As he moved to the front of the room, Hera took a seat and gestured for Sabine and Zeb to do the same.
Okadiah passed out mugs of caf as Kanan spoke. “Ezra, Okadiah and I were down on the surface of Lothal earlier, and we received a piece of intel from a source down there.”
“A reliable one?” Hera asked, and Kanan grimaced.
“Reliable, yes. Trustworthy, decidedly less so. But considering how much I paid him for it, it should be solid,” Kanan said wryly. His expression growing serious again, he said, “According to Vizago, there’s a Imperial shipment of Wookie slaves heading through this system. He gave us the location, and the time. Many of them are soldiers who worked for the Old Republic.”
“Karabast. Then we definitely have to save them,” Zeb muttered, and all eyes shifted to him. “What? I owe ‘em. They… saved a lot of my people.”
Feeling a twinge of sympathy, Hera agreed, “Mine, too.” Looking at Kanan, she said, “What’s the plan?”
“Well, since the Ghost can scramble its frequency, I figured we’d take your ship,” Kanan said. “Then we pose as bounty hunters bringing in an extra Wookie, and that’s how we’ll get in.”
“I’m seeing a flaw in your brilliant plan,” Sabine said dryly. “First of all, the hundreds of Imps between us and the Wookies.”
“I have an idea for that,” Kanan said. “I seem to recall Hera said you were good with computers.”
“I’m good enough,” Sabine said.
“Good enough that you and Chopper can take out the gravity generator on cue?” Kanan asked, and for the first time he saw a spark of respect in her eyes.
“Okay, that could work,” she admitted. “But even if it does, there’s something else. We don’t actually have any Wookies.”
Surprisingly, it was Kasmir who spoke up. “Not if you use your imagination, Mando,” he said with a grin. “Take a look at your Lasat friend. Then squint, cross your eyes, and squint even harder. He could look like a rare hairless Wookie, don’t you think so?”
“Wha— that’ll never work,” Zeb protested.
“It might get us in,” Sabine conceded. “But what comes after that?”
“Glad you asked,” Kanan said with the grin that said he was ready for trouble. “Here’s the plan.”